


Nova Satus

by Minim Calibre (minim_calibre)



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Levels of Medical Accuracy, Gen, Post-Prelude, Pre-Canon, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minim_calibre/pseuds/Minim%20Calibre
Summary: "What now?"Gretel turned to her brother. "What now what, Hansel?
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Nova Satus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChokolatteJedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/gifts).



"What now?" 

Gretel turned to her brother. "What now what, Hansel?" she asked, a little more crossly than she'd intended. The exhilaration she'd felt when they'd killed the witch had started to fade, and an exhausted dread was slowly but surely seeping into its place, and her feet and legs were sore from hours of walking.

"What do we do?" In the light of the stolen lantern, his dear face was twisted with worry, and he looked like he was trying very hard not to cry. "Do we go home?"

"No," she said. "Father took us to the woods and left us, remember? We can't go back." 

"I had a crust of bread in my pocket. I tried leaving the crumbs so we could find our way back, but the crust was so small that I ran out before we were even halfway to where he left us," Hansel said.

"That was stupid. Birds would have eaten the crumbs, and we could have eaten that crust." Twigs crunched under their shoes as they walked. The patches of sky that they could see through the trees were growing steadily lighter. It would be morning soon. "We should have slept in her bed," she said. "Even if the house stunk of burnt witch."

"A witch probably knows other witches," Hansel pointed out. "It was safer to take what we needed and leave." They each had on their back a bag filled with as much in the way of food and goods as they could carry. 

"When it's light enough that we don't need the lanterns, we should find somewhere to sleep for a while."

"And then what?"

"Then we find a stream and follow it until we find a town." A town, she reasoned, would have enough people that the chances of one of them being a witch were low. 

Dawn came and Hansel and Gretel searched until they found a spot between two crossed logs, the ground reasonably dry and stone free. They stowed their bags in a hollow beneath one of the logs and huddled beneath the blanket they'd stolen from the witch's bed, curled up together in an effort to keep warm. Hansel fell asleep first, his head against his sister's shoulder, his arm flung trustingly around her. It took Gretel longer, every rustled leaf or bird call somehow ominous until the morning light chased the last of the darkness away and she slept.

~

The growling of their stomachs woke them, and the children rummaged through their stolen bags for something to eat. The witch's larder hadn't been filled with much that looked like something a person would eat, but there had been some turnips and parsnips, half a loaf of bread, and a few apples. There had been sausages, too, but they'd left those behind—the risk that said sausages had once been unfortunate children like themselves had been too high for them to take that chance. 

Gretel gamely gnawed at a turnip, trying to pretend it was anything else. She hated turnips at the best of times and resented that she felt grateful for having any of the stupid things. 

"When we find a town, we can buy something better to eat with the witch's money," Hansel said. He burst out laughing. "You should see your face! Here, I'll trade you for the apple. It's too sweet." He tossed her his apple, one bite taken out, and she tossed him her turnip.

When she had eaten all that she could from the apple, she threw the core into the woods. Then she asked, "Why did they do it?" 

Hansel's face closed off, became pinched, and somehow older. "Does it matter?" 

_Yes_ , she wanted to say, but she shook her head. "No."

"From now on, it's just us," he said. He threw the end of the turnip in the same direction as her apple core. "You said it yourself, we can't go back. So it's better if we don't think about before." Hansel stood and brushed himself off. "Let's find that stream. I'm thirsty."

~

By the time they found a stream, they were parched and cranky. Gretel, on hearing the tell-tale burble of running water, stopped abruptly, throwing her hand up to shush her brother when she saw him start to open his mouth. She listened, took a step or two in the direction she thought the sound was coming from, listened again, then took off in an undignified sprint towards it.

"Wait up!" Hansel yelped, and Gretel slowed just enough for him to catch up to her. 

She crashed through the bushes and branches, ignoring the blisters that had formed on her feet, and gave a shout of triumph as the forest gave way to green banks and a gently winding stream. Both children fell to their knees and dipped their cupped hands into the water. It was frigid and sweet, and she drank eagerly until her stomach felt bloated with it, then splashed her face, rubbing until the dirt and soot was gone from her cheeks. 

Moss grew between the blades of grass, soft and plush beneath her palms as she leaned back and looked around. She spread her fingers and wiggled them. Just yesterday, they'd nearly been eaten by a witch, but here they were, still alive and still together. 

"Upstream or down?" she asked, peering one way then the next, seeing nothing of interest in either direction.

Hansel pulled out one of the coins he'd stuffed in his pocket. "Heads or tails?"

"Tails," she replied. 

He flipped the coin and caught it between his hands. "Tails it is," he said. "Did that mean upstream or downstream?"

"I thought you'd decided which was which."

"I thought you had!"

"Well, I hadn't." She considered the issue and came to a decision for them. "Downstream. Let's soak our feet first." 

Hansel looked around. Then he shook his head. "Look at the shadows, Gretel. We want to find a town before nightfall. It's well past noon."

She gave a wistful glance at the icy water. "Then let's go."

They followed the stream's meandering path, watching carefully for any sign that would indicate there were people anywhere nearby. Just as the daylight was starting to dim, they spotted a road, and Gretel, who had been sinking into gloom as the hours passed, found herself filled with anxious hope. 

It was a narrow road, but appeared well-traveled, even though no travelers were presently within sight. They walked down the side of the road, keenly aware of the thinning light, achingly hungry again, determined to keep walking until they found a town. 

Slow, steady hoofbeats and the creak of a cart's wheels came from behind them, and they moved to the side of the road to get out of the way of whoever was coming. It was an old man in a donkey cart, a bundle of rags behind him. 

"Sir?" Gretel called. The man slowed his cart and looked at her, questioning. "How far is it to the nearest town?" 

"Five miles or so," he replied.

"Is that where you're headed?" she asked, widening her eyes in the way her mother had always told her was beneath her dignity and her father had always given in to. "If so, can you give us a ride?" 

The old man rubbed his chin, considering, and looked between the two. "I'm headed near enough. What are you children doing out alone?"

"We're orphans," said Hansel, unconvincingly. "Looking for honest work."

The man laughed. "Pull my other one," he said. "But I'll give you a ride, I will. Get in before I change my mind."

Hans, as he introduced himself, wasn't much of a talker, which Gretel appreciated. She leaned against one of the bundles of rags, the swaying of the cart soon lulling her into a much-needed sleep, too soon interrupted by Hansel shaking her awake. 

"We're here," he told her. 

It was evening now, the sky shot through with pinks and reds. The town wasn't much of one, just a smattering of buildings crowded together, but there were people there, lamps lit in the windows, and noise coming from what had to be the inn. 

They thanked Hans and clambered out of the cart, Hansel tossing him a coin. 

"Where now?" Gretel asked her brother. 

He shrugged and headed in the direction of the inn. "As good a place as any, don't you think?" 

"For you, maybe," she replied. "Girls aren't supposed to venture into places like that, remember?"

"What do you care?" he said. She supposed he had a point.

No one paid them much attention, which was probably for the best. It was warm, dry, and, while it reeked of beer and onions, it was, as far as she could tell, witch-free. While Hansel went to find them food, Gretel sat at an uneven table in an ill-lit part of the room and waited. Two children on their own wouldn't be able to get a bed at the inn, but there were sure to be corners of the stables where they could sleep unnoticed for a night. 

~

Gretel had been right about the stables. They sneaked in unnoticed and climbed up into a hayloft, where they settled in behind the fodder, curled together under their blanket just as they had in the woods that morning. Despite the pieces of hay poking them everywhere, despite the smell of horse shit and the chill of the night air, she slept like the dead. 

That night, Gretel's dreams were wild and strange. The witch figured prominently in them, always at the moment when her magic failed. When she woke, it was not quite dawn, and she lay in the dark, listening to Hansel mutter nonsense in his sleep as she waited for it to grow just light enough to see by, just light enough for them to sneak back out unnoticed. 

"Did you sleep well?" Gretel asked him.

"Not like you did," he replied. "I felt so hot, I was sweating, and I had to piss what felt like a thousand times. Thank god there were empty stalls there."

~

In their little cottage, in the before times that she and Hansel had agreed not to talk about, they'd of course had their chores. Gretel had sown seeds and pulled weeds and fed chickens and plucked them, and Hansel had done much the same. They'd snared rabbits with their father, hunted small game, mended tools and clothing. All those skills would come in handy now, for the witch's coin wouldn't last very long and they couldn't keep sneaking into barns to sleep.

It sounded duller than ditchwater, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and beggars they'd be if they didn't find work. How to go about doing that, she had no idea. The town was busy in the morning, people in the market bustling around, servants going to and fro. They could, if they were lucky, find someone in need of assistance, be it for money or be it for room and board. 

Although, she realized, finding someone who happened to need two children of moderate skills was going to be a lot more difficult than finding someone who would take on one or the other of them. Oh, hell. 

"How long do you think the money will last, Hansel?" she asked.

"Don't know. A fortnight, maybe more if we're careful."

"A fortnight, then we have to find ourselves jobs before we starve. And likely jobs in separate households, the way things are going."

"No!" he said strongly. "Not separate. We're in this together, Gretel. No matter what. We'll find something."

They wandered amongst the crowd, eating the food they'd bought. Hansel had been quiet since she'd woken him at first light, his skin flushed like he had a fever. He'd also gone off to piss at least five times.

"Are you all right?" she asked him as they ducked out of the way of a heavyset woman hauling water. "You look like you're ill."

"I think was just hungry," he replied, watching the woman as she lumbered down the street. "I'm better now that we've eaten something. I'm thirsty as hell, though."

"We should ask around about jobs," she said. "It will give us something to do before we go back to the stables tonight."

"Sure, but after we find something to drink."

~

Gretel learned two things while inquiring as to possible employment: one, people seemed to think a pair of children in torn, filthy clothing were out to steal from them; and two, which she learned after they'd split up to see if a child had alone had the same effect as the pair of them, men were disgusting. 

From those men, she also learned that every fight she'd ever had with her brother meant she could get out of anyone's grasp and knew how to throw a mean punch if she had to, so it wasn't all bad.

"Any luck?" she asked Hansel when they rendezvoused back near the center of town. 

His skin was still flushed, and he looked exhausted. "What?" he said, blinking as though he'd just woken up, looking at her in obvious and terrifying confusion.

"Any luck finding us work?"

"Oh. Right. No, none. Sorry, I'm so tired my eyes are blurring. Can we get something to eat? I'm starving."

"Shit," she said. Her parents would have been aghast, but the word felt good on her tongue. "Come on, maybe a shopkeeper will have something."

They'd only gone a couple of steps when Hansel stumbled and swayed. "Gretel," he said, and he sounded close to panic. "I think something's wrong with me." He'd no sooner said it than his legs gave out from under him and he slid to the ground, clutching his stomach. "I think she cursed me."

Oh, _fuck._ "Hang on," she told him, keeping her own panic as much in check as she could. "There's got to be an apothecary around here somewhere, maybe you're just sick. Can you stand up?" He shook his head. "Then stay here while I find one."

"Like I have a choice in the matter," he said, his voice shaky. "What's happening to me?"

"I don't know. Just hang on, okay? I'll be right back."

~

She hurried from shop door to shop door. It took her at least a dozen before she finally found the one she was looking for. Standing behind the counter of herb-filled jars was a woman who looked old enough to be their grandmother's grandmother. 

"Can I help you?" she said.

"My brother." It came out in a frightened tumble of words. "He's sick and can't move and he's never sick." Neither of them ever were. As soon as they felt even a little under the weather, their mother had brewed up tisanes and tinctures and they'd been good as new. She felt her eyes start to prickle and burn. "Please." Gretel pulled out all of the coins she had and dropped them on the counter. "I can pay you."

The apothecary sighed and scooped the coins into her pocket. "Bring me to him," she said. "I'll see what I can do."

~

Hansel was right where she'd left him, though he looked even worse than before. The passers-by, she noticed bitterly, ignored him like so much trash. 

"Can you stand," she said. When he didn't reply, she shook his shoulders. "Hansel, can you stand? I'll help."

The confused haze didn't leave his eyes, but he nodded, so she put her arms under his and pulled him to his feet. Slowly, Hansel leaning heavily on Gretel, they made their way back to the apothecary's shop. 

Once inside, the apothecary looked him over with an ever-deepening frown on her wizened face. "What's wrong?" she asked. She put a wrinkled hand on his forehead.

"My eyes are blurry, no matter how much water I drink, my mouth is dry, my stomach hurts, and I'm so tired, I feel like I never went to sleep."

"He's pissing all the time, too," Gretel added.

"How long have you felt like this?" the apothecary asked.

Clearly struggling to focus, Hansel bit his lip and frowned himself before answering. "Since I woke up. I've been starving all day. I thought it would get better after I ate, but then it came back even worse."

The apothecary nodded, lips pursed. "Breathe out," she told Hansel. He did and she sniffed the air where he exhaled. To Gretel, she said, "I've seen this before. There's a chamberpot upstairs, behind the first door on the left. Take him up there." Then to Hansel, she said, "Piss and then taste it, then tell your sister if it's sweet or not and send her back downstairs."

"You want me to taste my own piss?" It was as close to Hansel sounding like himself as Gretel had heard since whatever the sickness was had come over him. 

"It's the only way to know if you have the sugar sickness," the apothecary replied. "If you do, you're lucky to have come to me. I can't cure it, but I can keep you from dying of it. I'll get the kit together while you're up there."

"Come on, Hansel." Gretel slung her arm firmly around his waist and guided him towards the uneven wooden stairs. "It's hardly the worst thing that's happened this week."

"You're not the one who has to taste it," he muttered, but he dutifully went with her up the stairs.

~

"Are you done yet?" Gretel asked. She'd been waiting outside the room with the chamberpot for what felt like ages and had yet to hear the sound of urine hitting the pot.

"I can't piss with you hovering there," came his voice from behind the door. 

"And I can't leave until you're done. You haven't had a problem with it before and you've been pissing all day."

"I haven't had to taste it before!"

"Fine," she said. "I'll walk down the hall a bit. Call me when you've pissed."

She walked down the hall, peering at the faded anatomy and plant illustrations on the wall and watching the motes of dust dance in the sunbeams coming through the small window. A minute or two later, Hansel called out, "Finished."

"Have you tasted it yet?" she replied, walking back towards him.

"No. I'm trying to work my way up to it."

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No! Just give me a minute." There was silence for a moment, then she heard the sound of him gagging. 

"Is it sweet?" 

Silence again, then he answered with a strangled, "Yes."

~

The apothecary had brought out a chair from somewhere, and she and Gretel helped Hansel down the stairs and onto it. 

"You can really help him?" Gretel asked her. 

"Yes, but as I told you, I can't cure it. He'll have to take the treatment for the rest of his life. Where are your parents?"

"Dead," she said. It felt true, even if it wasn't. "But I don't understand. He was fine just yesterday."

"I can't tell you why he has it, just that he does. And the why of it doesn't matter, not now that he has it. All that matters is how you treat it." She reached into a large leather bag and pulled out a metal plunger so big that it looked almost like a weapon, especially with the needle affixed to the end. "Roll up your sleeve," she said to Hansel. She handed the plunger to Gretel and pulled out a length of rope, which she tied around Hansel's arm. Then she took the plunger back from Gretel, positioned it above Hansel's arm, jabbed the needle in, and pressed. 

"Ouch!"

"The prick of that needle's a small price to pay for your life," she said, not unkindly. "You'll feel better soon, but you'll need to do this yourself every few hours for as long as you live, so I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it."

"That's just great," Hansel said. "Can't someone just lift the curse?"

"Curse? The sugar sickness doesn't come from a curse, boy. What gave you that impression?"

"Because it happened right after we escaped a witch," he said. 

"You escaped a witch?" The apothecary sounded surprised.

"Killed a witch," Gretel added proudly. "She was going to eat us, him first. She kept me chained while she force-fed Hansel candy to fatten him up, but the bitch wasn't counting on me getting free."

"Where was this?" asked the apothecary, a note to her voice that Gretel didn't recognize.

"In the forest," Hansel replied. "But I don't know where. It was dark and we wandered for hours until we got here."

"Come with me," she said. "I want to show the two of you something. Hansel, was it? And you are?"

"Gretel."

"Then come with me, Hansel and Gretel."

~

The apothecary led them out into the street, beckoning them to follow as she walked towards the center of town. "Does that look familiar to you?" she asked, pointing to a paper posted by a door. It was tattered around the edges and splattered with flecks of dried mud, and Gretel felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she looked at it.

Hansel stepped forward and read what was printed on it aloud, "'Reward: This witch, known to be responsible for the disappearance of fifteen children.' That's her," he said. "I'd know the ugly face on that woodcut anywhere."

"Well, Hansel and Gretel, it appears you've done our town a great service. We've had witch hunters through here for years, unable to kill or capture her." She reached into her pocket and pulled out the coins Gretel had given her. "Take your money back, Gretel. Unless you can prove that you killed her, I doubt you can claim the reward, but she got my own grandson five years ago, and this is the least I can do. Hansel's medicine is free for as long as I live. I don't suppose you took anything as proof?" 

"No," Hansel said. "And we burned her, so it's not like we could go back for her body, even if could find our way back to that candy house."

"People hunt witches for a living?" Gretel asked, her mind working rapidly. It was something the two of them could do. They'd done it once. And they could do it together. She could tell Hansel was thinking the same thing.

"They do, though most of them are charlatans if you ask me. Give them enough coin, and they'll accuse any woman of being a witch, even if they've no evidence. Most of the time, people are so desperate, they believe it, and pay them through the nose."

"How do you become a witch hunter?" Gretel asked. "Do you apprentice? Is there a guild?"

"I'm just an apothecary, I'm afraid. I wouldn't know."

"Well, who would?" asked Hansel. "Someone must."

The apothecary stared at the poster, looking as though she was weighing something in her mind. "You're just children," she said.

"We're orphans. We need to make our way somehow, and it's this or cleaning someone's shit out of a chamber pot or mucking horseshit out of a stall," Gretel replied. "Or worse. We've already killed one. Hansel's good with a knife and I'm good with a bow. If you can't tell us, we'll figure it out on our own, but I think you know something. Do you?"

With a sigh, the old woman nodded her head.

"Then tell us. Please."

"There's an old bowyer, outside of town who used to keep the witches away from our town. When the witch started taking children, he was the first person anyone thought of, but he was too old to be any help at all, and none of the hunters he sent our way were any better. If you truly wish to do this, I'll give you directions and send you on your way, but cleaning chamber pots is a much safer choice."

"We're sure," Gretel said. "Aren't we, Hansel?"

Hansel nodded. "What my sister said. We won't get this reward, but we'll get the next one and the one after that. And children like your grandson will be safe from harm."

"Someone has to do it," Gretel added. "We've done it once. It might as well be us."

"If you change your minds," the apothecary said, "come back. I could bring you on as apprentices."

"Thanks," Gretel said. "But we won't change our minds."

~

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hansel asked as they stood outside the bowyer's door. The apothecary had sent them off with directions, a letter of introduction, a month's worth of medicine for Hansel, and careful instructions on how and when to inject himself, making sure to remind him not to skip meals. "We could go back and take her up on her offer. Apothecaries make good money."

"So do witch hunters. You heard what she said. This is what we were meant for, I'm sure of it. Remember how the witch couldn't hurt us? Her magic didn't work. What about you? Having doubts?"

"No," he said. He grinned at her. "Not at all."

"Come on, brother. Let's knock on the door. From now on, we're witch hunters."

And so they were.


End file.
